The Great Fox Hunt
by Eli Malfoy-Black
Summary: Jamie Watson seemed to be a normal person -not mention a war hero- to everyone around her. Only Sherlock Holmes was able to sense that something was not right. He knew she was intelligent, so why would she hold her self back on cases? Why all the secrecy about her family? Who is she really, and why can't he find out anything about her further back than eight years ago?
1. Chapter 1

Nighttime was always the hardest time for her to be alone, especially with the memories she had. The screams of agony, the looks on their faces before her partners died, the loud gunfire echoing in her ears... Hell, she wished she could use bleach to scrub her mind clean of all the filth and gore she'd witnessed, before and during her time serving over in Afghanistan.

Her eyes sprang open, and she drew in a loud, gasping breath. _Not again..._

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she bit her lower lip to stifle the sobs building in her chest. Her childhood had been easy to leave behind, start anew. It didn't bother her as much, now that eight years had passed since that bloody awful day. But then _he_ had stepped in, demanded she clean up "her mess". Th trial was hard enough, avoiding everyone's judgmental stares. The jeers and loud taunts from the crowds she had to be escorted through as she made her way up the steps of the courthouse...

But the sting had faded immensely over the years, and had been covered by her nightmares of war. Her dreams were tinged with a blood-like red hue. The feeling of the cold steel of the guns in her hands was so realistic, that at the start of each dream she thought getting out of the Army had been a dream. But then she would look around, and see faces that shouldn't be able to smile at her, or laugh at the private jokes she and her mates had. She wanted to cry every time, to tell them to run and not look back, but it was as if her voice wasn't her own.

She gave a bitter snort, glowering up at her flat's cracked ceiling. Why kid herself? Her life had never been her own, so why should her dreams be any different?

Jamie Watson gave a sad sigh, then turned over, trying in vain to go back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**HELLO!**

 ***excited face* I'm SO excited to be BACK! ^_^ I'm sorry it took me so long to load ANYTHING, but due to health issues, school, and changing jobs, I had no time nor energy. But now I'm determined to see this new fic through. Wish me luck! And I hope you enjoy it. ;)**

 **-Eli**

Jamie hobbled along the sidewalk, her cane making a light 'tap-tap' against the concrete. She kept her head down, unwilling to face anybody's curious stare. She kept jerking slightly when people bumped against her, ignoring their apologies in favor of trying to hurry away - as fast as she could with a cane, that is. Grimacing, she stopped and leaned over to massage her calf with one hand.

"Excuse me."

Jamie nearly fell over, scuttling to the side to avoid the mother and her children. Giving her an odd look, the mother shook her head and continued on, cheerfully chattering away to her complaining youngsters.

Jamie took a deep, calming breath, then slowly made her way down the sidewalk. She was so jittery being around people...her therapist said that would fade over time. She rolled her eyes inwardly. Her therapist had also told her that her blog would help her get used to being a civilian again.

She had yet to see a difference. (Though that could possibly be partly her own fault...since she hadn't written anything yet.)

Stopping at a cafe to get a steaming hot latte, she went back outside to settle on her usual bench and people-watch. Jamie sipped at it carefully, her eyes taking in every person that walked by.

The little boy, running down the sidewalk after an older boy who had an irritated expression. Obviously, they were brothers, and the little one was trying to catch up with the other, since they were supposed to walk home from school together.

The old man and woman, meandering along, arm-in-arm. They weren't talking, just silently enjoying each other's company. Coming upon their 60th wedding anniversary-

"Watson? Jamie Watson?"

Jamie's head swiveled, and she stared at the dark man with an American accent standing to the side. He smiled.

"Marcus Bell, remember? You were in New York for the trial?"

The memories of New York hit her like a tidal wave, but she managed to smile back at him instead of grimace. "yes, sorry, hello Marcus." She shook his hand warmly. "I'd get up, but..." she self-consciously tapped her leg with the cane. "My leg..."

He glanced down at her leg. "I'm bit surprised to find you here, actually. Last I heard, you were overseas in Afghanistan getting shot at." He settled next to her on the bench. "What happened?"

She turned and quirked an eyebrow at him. "I got shot."

After a brief awkward silence, Marcus cleared his throat. "So...you're not staying with Harry?"

Jamie merely snorted at that.

"But-"

"Nope," Jamie cut him off, her lips making the 'p' pop.

Marcus thought for a second. "Do you have an apartment in central London?"

"More like on the outskirts, but I'm still sorta in London," Jamie murmured, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Hmm..." Marcus hummed, smirking to himself. "Did you even try to get a roommate?"

Jamie let out a surprised, bitter laugh. "Oh, come one. Who'd want me for a flatmate?"

"Y'know...you're the second person to say that," Marcus said, smiling.

 **So...waddya think? :) Follow and review, please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there, everyone! So sorry it took me so long to update, but life keeps getting in the way of things I want to do. :( Sucks to be me right now, I'm telling ya. (Just had my last wisdom tooth out yesterday morning, ugh...)**

 **Anyhoo! Here is chapter three. I had it written a few weeks ago, but I couldn't find the notebook I had it in. I finally found it, so I'm finally updating this story. This story might take me a while to complete, since it's a crossover between Sherlock and Elementary. Please bear with me!**

 **Allonsy~**

 **Eli**

Jamie followed Marcus down the halls of Barts, heading for a lab area. Although she appeared calm and cool, her stomach was twisting at the usual antiseptic smell of a hospital. It brought back memories of a time better off left forgotten.

She snapped back to the present when Marcus stopped and opened a door for her. Smiling gratefully, she limped past him into the room, careful not to spike his foot with her cane.

"A bit different from my last visit," Jamie muttered to him, eyes flickering from one object to another.

She smirked when Marcus chuckled. "I should hope so."

"Bell, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

Jamie's eyes narrowed as she studied the strikingly handsome man with curly dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes, sitting in front of a microscope. He wasn't looking at them, but down at the notes he was writing. Jamie felt a small flicker of interest.

"Mind telling me what's wrong with using the landline?" Marcus asked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation.

Jamie bit her lip to keep from smiling. From the look of things, it appeared the two of them had this kind of conversation often.

"I prefer to text," the blue-eyed mystery man stated simply, fiddling with the microscope.

"Sorry, but it looks like I left it in my hotel room," Marcus grumbled while patting his pockets. He frowned in annoyance.

"Here," Jamie spoke up, pulling her own mobile out of her jeans pocket and holding it towards the man. "You can use mine."

"Oh," he looked at her, a small smile gracing his face as he glanced at Marcus. "Thank you."

"Ah, this is an old friend of mine," Marcus suddenly said after an awkward pause. He clapped a friendly hand on Jamie's shoulder. "Jamie Watson."

Jamie nodded at the blue-eyed man, then shot Marcus a look. "We worked together the few years I lived in the States."

"NYPD," Marcus spoke up needlessly.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Jamie was taken aback. "Sorry?"

The man kept his gaze on the phone's screen as he texted. "Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

She cleared her throat before answering. "Afghanistan. How the bloody-"

The door opened, and the man cut her off with an, "Ah, Molly! Coffee, thank you." He studied the young woman, reasonably attractive with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes as she handed him the coffee. "What happened to the lipstick?"

Molly fidgeted with her hands. "It, ah...wasn't working for me."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement," mystery man said, turning away and taking a big sip of coffee. "Your mouth's too small now."

"...ok..." was Molly's weak reply before she left.

Jamie's eyes followed Molly, then snapped back to the man. Obviously, he pushed people away because they were normal and boring, co challenges. Was he involved with the police? She wondered if that's how he and Marcus knew each other.

He set the coffee down on the table and finished writing his notes. "How do you feel about the violin?"

Jamie instantly knew he was the person looking for a flatmate that Marcus had told her about. She tilted her head to the side, eyeing the man. "I like it fine. Why?"

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?" He turned and looked her straight in the eyes as he pulled his coat off the back of his chair and slipped into it. "Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

She wasn't certain about rooming with a man. What would her cousin think? But shw wsa in need of a flatmate, and here was one in front of her. "In that case," she began slowly. "I tend to shout at the telly, I like to sing in the shower, and I have insomnia. Would my being up all hours bother you?" She looked at him innocently.

The man's lips twitched as if he was fighting a smile. "No, it wouldn't."

"Good. Shut up, Marcus."

Marcus was fighting small chuckles when Jamie shot him the small glower. He snorted, and waved a hand at her.

"Damn, but you two are perfect," Marcus teased, ducking Jamie's hand as she swatted at him.

The man ignored their antics. "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock." He nodded at Jamie, moving past for the door while he tied on his scarf. "Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."

"I don't even want to know," Marcus shook his head.

"Is that it?" Jamie asked, frowning slightly.

The man poked his back around the edge of the door. "Is that what?"

"I'm all for being flatmates, but I don't know your name, nor where we're meeting."

"The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 2-2-1-B Baker Street." He winked and disappeared with a cheery, "Afternoon!"

Jamie turned her bemused gaze on Marcus. He just shrugged. "Yeah. He's always like that."

She spotted her mobile on the counter and picked it up, looking at it thoughtfully. For some reason, she had the feeling an adventure was just beginning.


End file.
